


Cortisol, Adrenaline, and You

by nhpw



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Fluff, Groping, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Shower Sex, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhpw/pseuds/nhpw
Summary: The Ackles family hosts their friends for an afternoon of fun in the sun by the pool in Austin.Jensen and Misha take a quiet moment away from the chaos.(Basically porn with very little plot; set Summer 2017.)





	Cortisol, Adrenaline, and You

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially inspired by a quote from Dr. Gabor Mate, a physician who specializes in neurology, psychiatry and psychology. He was particularly interested in the impact of a person's childhood on their mental and physical health in adulthood. He wrote that "For those habituated to high levels of internal stress since early childhood, it is the absence of stress that creates unease, evoking boredom and a sense of meaninglessness. People may become addicted to their own stress hormones, adrenaline and cortisol" (from When the Body Says No: The Hidden Cost of Stress)
> 
> Anyway, I saw this quote, and all I could think of was Misha. So here we are.
> 
> Um. This is fluff. Pure fluff. And more fluff. And a little humor and teasing, but mostly fluff.

Jensen wanted to pull all his hair out.

In fact, as he retreated away from the pool deck and into the slightly quieter refuge of his sunroom, he did literally raise both hands and tug at the short, spiky hairs on his head.

He’d lost track of the number of people currently invading his home. There was his own wife and kids, for starters - not intruders on his space, because they lived there too, obviously, but definitely intruders on his sanity at the moment - but they were just the start of it. The Vantoch-Collins brood added another 4 bodies, but for all the energy they brought it might as well have been double that, at least. And the Padaleckis were enough of a constant that it’s possible Jensen wouldn’t have even noticed they were there, except that when Jensen had fled the backyard, it was because West and Thomas had captured an exceptionally large June bug and dropped it down the back of “Uncle Jensen’s” shirt while he had a beer in his right hand and Arrow in his left arm and the resulting squirm of his body had caused him to drop the beer and nearly the baby as well.

So now he was hiding.

“The perpetrators have been suitably chastised.”

Not hiding well enough, apparently.

Still, it was Misha, and that was… well that was pretty good. He smiled to himself but didn’t turn around. “They owe me a beer.”

“I’ll put West on it when he’s out of time-out. So like. Next week.” Strong arms came around Jensen’s middle and he sighed, letting his body relax back against a muscled chest. “Hmmm.” A sound of contentment as a familiar chin dropped down on Jensen’s shoulder from behind. He relaxed further still.

“Man, how are you so chill about it all? How are you…  _ you _ … so…  _ this  _ right now?”

Soft lips placed a peck just below his left earlobe. “I thrive on chaos.”

“Obviously.”

“I’m serious. There was this study… Dr. Gabor Mate - he’s done studies and written books on addiction and its effects on the body and mind - anyway, he theorized that we can actually become addicted to the cortisol and adrenalin in our own stress hormones.”

Jensen nodded and moved his full body back against Misha, now more of an intentional rub of strategic body parts than a lean into a touch. “Huh.”

“So I figure it goes a long way to explain me. I like chaos. I thrive on activity. It’s standing still in silence that makes me nuts.”

“Like how you’re always fidgeting with your phone when we have downtime between takes.”

“‘Xactly.” A mumble, almost a purr, and definitely headed in a direction Jensen could appreciate. He gave an intentional slow grind of his hips.

“Or how your least favorite way to have sex is missionary style with just one partner.”

This time Misha definitely  _ did  _ purr - and then he nuzzled Jensen’s neck and bit his earlobe. “You’re a fast learner.”

“Serves me well.” Finally, Jensen turned in the embrace and locked his lips to Misha’s. There existed the very real possibility that they could be interrupted at any moment, but part of Jensen was pretty sure Misha would enjoy that, so he let the kiss evolve into a PG-13 make-out session without suggesting they move to a more secluded part of the house.

The feminine hands that goosed him were perhaps the most suitable interruption he could’ve hoped for. He pulled his lips from Misha’s and turned his head to glance behind him to find Vicki, all innocent smile and knowing eyes. “Believe me, watching the two of you get it on poolside definitely ranks pretty high on my fantasy list, but maybe save it for after the kids are in bed?” She wiggled her eyebrows and then leaned over Jensen to kiss her husband, deeply and with intention. “Or if you can’t wait,” she amended, dropping her tone to low and sultry, “take it to the bedroom.”

“Or the shower?” Jensen asked, turning his head back to her with one eyebrow cocked in question. “If Misha’s done in the pool, he really should shower.”

She kissed at his neck in response - the same spot her husband had been loving on before they’d been interrupted. “This is why I like you.” Then she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he savored the unique taste of Vicky-and-Misha on her lips. “Just promise me you’ll save some energy for later. I was serious about that poolside porn, and Dee and I deserve a turn.”

“Deal.” Jensen leaned in to kiss her again, and felt a masculine growl radiate from his front side and up through his ribs that definitely came from outside his own body. His lips left Vicki’s and he turned fully to face Misha again, only to find he barely had time to draw a single breath before his attempt at more oxygen was cut off by a spit-swapping kiss from his male partner. He let himself get lost in it all - in the feel of these two seamlessly pulling him out of his stress -- why had he been stressed? He couldn’t remember all of a sudden -- and down, down, down into a hormone-laden, oxygen-deprived state of relaxation and warmth and  _ need _ . 

Vicki’s hands squeezed his ass cheeks in tandem, kneading firmly, and he rolled his hips up to press his groin to Misha’s, and then Misha moaned into his mouth, and--

“OK. If I don’t leave now, I’ll end up joining you for that shower,” Vicki’s voice was breathless in his ear.

“Wouldn’t be nothin’ wrong with that, Sweetheart,” he drawled against Misha’s mouth, unwilling to break the kiss to reply. 

“Mmmhmmm, says you, Texas Boy. But if we all disappear, Dee’s going to know where we went, and then she’ll want to play, too, and--”

Jensen frowned at Misha but spoke out loud, mostly to Vicki, “Not really seeing the downside here.”

“Isn’t it kind of unfair to leave Jared and Gen with eight children in their charge?”

“That’s like leaving Gen with nine children.” Misha sounded forlorn at the conclusion, and Jensen sighed in agreement.

“That’s not really fair to Gen.”

“I never said she wouldn’t be invited.”

“OK but then… like…”

“Nah, man, I can’t screw Jared’s wife.” Jensen sighed again, their banter leading them to what maybe should have been a foregone conclusion.

Vicki pecked at his neck again and patted his cheek so he’d look back over his shoulder at her once more. “Just say ‘ _ thank you, Vicki _ ,’ and go blow my husband in the shower.”

He huffed a laugh. “Thank you Vicki, and go blow my husband in the shower,” he parroted, barely making it to the end of his statement before he snorted out a giggle.

She chuckled darkly in return. “Believe me, Handsome, I would  _ love  _ to - but I think he’d rather have  _ you _ on your knees right now. He told me on the way here how he’s been missing you so bad he had a boner on the plane just  _ thinking _ about getting some alone time with you in your swim shorts.” She kissed him square on the lips, then pulled back and winked. “So don’t let the boy down.”

“You know I won’t.” 

“You cocky bastard.” She patted Jensen’s ass, and then Misha’s, before leaving the sunroom, humming something unrecognizable as she went.

“Shower?” Now Misha was all business, both eyebrows raised just enough to be stern, and he pressed fully against Jensen, giving a harsh grind of his hips to make his intentions clear.

“Upstairs’ll be less foot traffic,” Jensen growled, and returned the grind of hips in kind. He made a move to latch his mouth back to Misha’s, but after a chaste kiss, he was turned away, and then physically turned in the direction of the sliding door that led inside the Ackles House proper. A firm swat at his ass guided him in the direction of the stairs, and they climbed them like a couple of frisky puppies, all hands and feet alternating on the stairs so that they could always be touching one another in some way and yet maintain balance and manage not to trip each other up. It was a scramble, almost a race, but at the top all bets were off, along with Jensen’s shirt, and Misha claimed his mouth again before backing him into the bathroom and closing and locking the door.

“Mish-- Misha--” He’d forgotten how Misha could be, sometimes, when it had been awhile since they’d…  _ this _ . He was like a wild animal, or an addict who’d gone too long without a fix of his poison. He’d grab and grope and put his hands wherever he damn well pleased, and he’d pull Jensen in with kisses and bites and goddamn hickeys like he was trying to consume him, physically. “Got-- gotta turn on--”

“I got it.” Misha was focused on shoving Jensen’s swim trunks down, and once they were pooled around his feet, Jensen managed to step out of them with all of the grace of a drunk giraffe. Misha’s arms held him firm, and he stayed upright through the ordeal. Then the water was on -- he heard it before he felt it -- and then Misha had him walked backward into the shower of the master bedroom, and it was glorious, all six shower heads spraying with just the right temp and pressure as Jensen’s back connected with the tiled wall and Misha’s hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere all at once.

Then Misha’s right hand wrapped around Jensen’s length and stroked with purpose, and Jensen had to throw back his head to moan. “Jshh… Fffff… Msshhh…” The only response from his partner was a dark chuckle and a nip at his earlobe.

A few more strokes, though, and the hand was gone, and Jensen opened his eyes to a straight face, raised eyebrows, and shining blue eyes with blown pupils. “Jensen…”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Misha.”

Misha just leaned in and nipped at Jensen’s bottom lip, growling as he pulled away. Jensen huffed a laugh, and pushed back enough to turn them so that now  _ Misha  _ was braced against the adjacent wall, up against a corner between and behind the crossing sprays of two shower heads. And Misha surrendered, giving in to Jensen’s control of the kiss, to Jensen’s arms braced on either side of his frame, caging him into the corner. 

Only when the surrender was apparent, and Misha was the one becoming pliant in Jensen’s control, did Jensen reach down to start to stroke his partner’s erection as they kissed. His strokes were less hurried than Misha’s; steady, measured, and with the intention of drawing things out. And when that tempo earned him a whine, Jensen pulled back. “You like to play like you’re in control, but you thrive on handing over the reigns sometimes, don’t you? Mr… what was it?  _ Addicted to your own stress hormones _ ? Yeah. So cut the crap.” He kissed Misha again, hard and dirty, a quick swap of spit and clash of teeth. “All that adrenaline shit goes through the roof when someone spins your world upside down, don’t it?” Misha was glowering at him, pure fire darkening his hooded eyes, so Jensen sank to his knees and swallowed Misha to the root, relishing in the strangled cry he earned for his efforts.

He smirked around his mouthful and started the blowjob the same as he’d been kissing: Passionate, unhurried. He pulled back every time Misha thrust his hips up, lifting his eyes on each occasion to glare intensely upward, aiming steely green eyes up to meet stormy blue. Three or four deep-swallows later, Misha relaxed, and Jensen did, too, at the feel of strong fingers carding through his hair. Then he laid on the charm, sucking with hollowed-out cheeks, humming low for vibration, and using his tongue and just the slightest scrape of teeth, the way he knew Misha liked.

Loved.

Crumbled under.

He pulled back just in time to let Misha’s cum hit him in the face, and continued to stroke Misha through the aftershocks of his orgasm until he was spent. Then he turned his face to the spray and let the water wash away the mess before standing to lock lips with his partner once more.

Strong arms came around his waist, and this kiss was more languid and soaked with afterglow emotions that still had Misha’s body all loose and relaxed. They pulled back, and Misha’s arms kept the embrace but came up to settle around Jensen’s shoulders.

He smiled.

Jensen smiled back.

Misha tilted his head and sighed.

“Whatchya thinkin’ about?”

“Not much.” With a half-smile, Misha shook his head. “Just you.”

“Mhmmm what about me?”

“Just… you. You quiet my mind.”

“I mean, it was a pretty awesome blowjob.” Misha just nodded, so Jensen nudged his nose into the other man’s forehead before pecking his lips to the spot. Then he pulled Misha close under one of the shower heads and reached for a bottle of shampoo so he could wash his partner’s hair. As he worked up a lather in the locks, he covered Misha’s face in tiny kisses, and Misha stayed quiet in his arms, eyes closed, body still. As he rinsed the shampoo from Misha’s hair, he spoke as low as he dared to keep himself heard above the sound of the water, “Is this OK?”

“Hmmm?”

“This. The calm. The, uh. Intimacy.”

“‘Course.”

“Because I know you said… you like chaos. Activity, you know. Noise. This is…”

“This is with you, Jensen.” The whole time, he didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes, but Jensen sensed no tension in his body. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

He laughed and reached for a sponge and body wash without fully disconnecting his touch from Misha’s body. “What, are you saying I can’t be chaotic?”

“No… you can. You’re just…” Misha sighed, bent his head and shook it slowly side to side for a couple of beats before finally looking up, eyes open and meeting Jensen’s. “Remember when Jared was being an asshole at the rented house when we were filming the finale, and I was chasing him around trying to make him stop being an asshole, and you just stood there and watched us over the rim of your coffee cup?”

“I mean, it was like three months ago, so yeah.”

“That’s exactly what you are. You’re like… You’re the steady rock in a sea of crazy. Everything can be completely going to shit around you, and you’re there in the middle of it, just… unshakable. You ground me when I need it. And that’s. Thank you for that.”

Jensen said nothing; he continued to wash Misha with gentle swaths of the sponge and followed it up with barely there kisses to newly washed skin. He took his time about it, and when he finished, he made eye contact with Misha and cupped the side of his face. “You’re welcome.” Then he stole one last, lingering kiss before reaching for the switch to turn off the water. He pulled away from Misha and stepped out to grab two navy blue towels from the linen closet, folded one around his waist and, after a second of indecision, snapped the other one at Misha.

“Hey!”

Jensen laughed and tossed the towel to him. “I gotta keep you on your toes sometimes too, you know.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Jensen drank in the sight of Misha using the towel, still within the confines of the shower, to ruffle his hair and wipe his back and shoulders before he, too, tied it around his own midsection and stepped out of the shower. 

He got lost in the staring enough that he didn’t notice Misha’s hand coming up to slap his ass until it was too late.

“Hey!”

“They say turnabout is fair play.” Misha bounced his eyebrows and smirked, and Jensen just shook his head in response.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that after the kids are in bed.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I'm gonna  _ turn you about _ on the pool deck. Can’t let the ladies down, can we?”

“Guess not.”

They exited the bathroom and Jensen rummaged through his drawers, grabbed two random tees, two pairs of boxers and two pairs of shorts, and handed one set of clothing to Misha.

Misha took a look at the pile in his hands, considered, and swapped the shirts. At Jensen’s confused squint, he shrugged. “This one,” he said as he pulled a soft blue Marvin Martian tee over his head, “was mine in the first place. I’ve been looking for it for months.”

There were a few beats of silence as they shrugged into the rest of their clothing, and then just as Misha was buttoning the fly on a pair of dark khaki shorts that might also have been his at some point, a thought occurred to him and he snapped his fingers. “Oh. Hey. So I have to submit the final GISHWHES item list to the legal team in a couple of weeks, and I was just wondering if you would mind--”

“Yes, I would.” 

They strolled out of the bedroom, headed back toward the pool and their families. “You didn’t even let me finish!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not doing it.”

“Spoilsport.” 

They could hear Jared’s triumphant cry about something, followed by young voices screaming at him, and then a splash just as they reached the sunroom door.

“It’s weird being made out of candy, Mish, and it’s even weirder to walk into a store and see myself staring back at myself.”

“What if it’s not candy?”

“No--”

“What if it’s vegetables?  _ WEST COLLINS, DO NOT PEE IN THE FLOWERS, we have bathrooms for that...! _ ”

And before Jensen could respond about his lack of desire to be made into food art, Misha was gone, striding across the pool deck to interrupt his son’s attempt at public urination. 

Jensen shook his head and sank down into a deck chair next to his wife. At her urging, he took his son from her lap, and she kissed his lips. “You taste like Misha.”

“Mmm.”

“What did I miss?”

“Just the appetizer. Main course’ll be better.”

“Promise?”

Jensen’s attention pulled away momentarily, to where Misha was now talking on his cell phone -- he was wearing his I’m doing actual business here face -- while simultaneously tossing a beach ball to JJ, Maison and Shep. The three of them shrieked in glee and scrambled after the ball into the pool when Misha “accidentally” threw it too far, and he took the opportunity to solidify whatever he was talking about on the phone. It was, Jensen reflected, the perfect image of Misha’s preference for chaos.

It was everything Jensen loved about Misha, and he wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Yeah. Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Belated disclaimer: I have no idea what kind of shower the Ackles master bedroom has. Much as I wish I had actual knowledge of this, I do not, and so it's all made up, and I made it big enough for two grown men to have fun sexy times without anybody stubbing any toes or knocking any knees. :)


End file.
